Nightmares
by Seraniti
Summary: Sequel to: Keeping You My Secret. Harry knows how to hide best. What is he going to do when Draco gets too close? Slash. DMHP.


Past that night in the Room of Requirement Draco and I never actually slept together. Sex, of course. But never actually sleeping. I always disappeared back to my flat at night. Draco kept asking me to spend the night. I think I disappointed him when I said no. I was not worth that comfort though.

Whenever I came over Draco would strip my glamours. It was difficult to get used to. I hate being stared at, even by him. I felt so naked.

Draco's was the only place I went anymore. School had only ended a couple months ago but already going outside was unbearable. Everywhere I went there were mobs. They even used to camp out in front of my flat. I had to give up living in the magic world after moving four times in the course of two weeks trying to escape the photographs.

No one would dare to stalk me in the muggle world. The magic world had folded even more into itself since the war. They had almost been exposed by Voldemort and it terrified people.

The Prophet was running stories about me almost constantly. They called me the most eligible bachelor. They still didn't know I spent most days with Draco.

With Lucius gone Draco had many duties. He had to marry in a couple years. Being head of the family building the family up had become more important than marrying right away and producing an heir. Lucius had been lynched by a mob inside of Diagon Alley. It had happened only days after the war was officially over. Draco was devastated.

I hate myself for my part of the war. The nightmares are horrible. I refuse to allow Draco into that war. I can see my godfather fall. I relive it day after day. I had become very good at silencing charms.

No matter how many times I scrub my hands I can still see the blood on them. It's part of the reason I cut. Maybe if I bleed enough then I can make up for all the innocent blood that had been spilled.

Hermoine is coming over today. For lunch. Her and Ron got into another fight. He hit her this time. She'll never listen to me about getting out of there though. Instead she'll crash on my couch for a couple of days crying her eyes out. Then Ron will send an owl begging for forgiveness and she will give it without question. I know her well by now. This happens once every other week or so.

I am putting on water for tea. I barely do magic any more. Most wizards mind it. I feel so weak all the time though. My magic feels like it's been drained to almost non-existent. The strain of the glamours is all I can handle.

Tea, Earl grey, with just a touch of sugar (not that Hermoine would ever admit she liked sugar in her tea.) was waiting on the coffee table when she stepped from the fireplace. Her cheek was a vivid blue and there were tear tracks down her face. I sat her down on my comfortable couch and held her while she cried. She promised she was never going back. She knew this was bad for her. She would get out this time for certain.

I held her as she cried herself to sleep and I lay with her the entire night just holding her. I love her. She's the sister I never had. The next day the owl came. She was gone before nine that morning.

I was exhausted when I flooed over to Draco's. He was sitting behind his desk when I came in. He took a quick glance at me before standing up to greet me. He drew me into his strong arms and I rested my head on his chest. Draco was a head taller than I am. I am short, and he is a grand man. His heartbeat is soothing and I am afraid I am starting to drift in his arms. I can't leave this quickly after arriving. It would hurt Draco too much. I love him. I would never admit that aloud though. I don't deserve love.

He maneuvers us very skillfully onto the couch in the room. He is surprisingly gentle. He runs his hands all over my body, exciting me. Swiftly all our clothing are removed. There is something more than passion behind these actions and I will not allow my mind to contemplate what emotion that might be. A whispered spell and a few fingers later he enters into me. His strokes are sure and steady. Hands wrap around me and my completion comes only moments before his.

He doesn't pull out immediately afterwards but waits until he is soft. He scoops me into strong arms and carries me to his room. I protest being carried like a child, but it is only a token resistance and he knows it. I like being cared for. I hate that longing within myself though.

He washes us gently in the tub. Normally a spell would suffice. His eyes are soft again though. He always does odd things when he looks like that.

Arms run up and down my sides and I feel myself drifting asleep. I don't want to. I try to excite him again. But he would have none of it. He holds me very tightly though. I drift asleep against him despite all my attempts not to. My eyes are just too heavy to keep open anymore. I faintly hear him whisper "I love you" in my ear as my world goes dark. Sleep addles the brain though and most likely I imagined it.

My nightmares are as vivid as normal this night. Strong arms would hold me as I cried and screamed though. I awoke alone. I don't remember much, just that I felt incredibly safe between dreams. The smell of toast and eggs fills my nose. Draco had the elves leave me breakfast. I am not too hungry though so I only pick at it. I can't believe Draco was there with my nightmares. What kind of person was I to make him deal with that? He deserved someone so much better than me. I have too many scars, and not all of them are self-inflicted. I am pleased that my glamours are still up for once. But it is a small comfort. He has already seen me at my most vulnerable.

The spacious room suddenly feels suffocating. I can't breath. I need to get out of here. Draco will be working this early in the morning. He can't stop me.

I run down and out by floo. I will be gone by the time he gets home. Not just here, but from my flat as well. I pack it using magic just in case he gets off early. It is 10, and I don't know what time he will take his lunch. It takes my items minutes to pack themselves up and I am out the door without a backwards glance.

I have spent too long running from my past to stop now.


End file.
